Page 83 of Late to Love

I give him a rueful grin. “If you say so.”

“I do,” he says cheerily. “Whatever you said to him last night worked, because he came to Mom and Dad’s last night and apologized.” He steps forward and lowers his voice into a conspiratorial whisper. “I don’t know if you know this, but Anthony doesn’t apologize.”

My chest warms at his words. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, good,” I say.

Ox studies me. “He hasn’t been in touch yet, has he?” At my answering shake of my head, he continues, “Give him time. I don’t know what went down between the two of you, but he’s definitely doing what you told him to do. That much I can guarantee.”

I want to believe him. “Thanks, Ox.”

He smiles. “Any time, Darcy.” The radio on his shoulder goes off, the words a mumble that I can’t quite make out. He cocks his head to it, listening, then presses a button. “Chief here. I’m close by. I’ll check it out.” Then he looks back at me. “I’ll see you soon?”

“Hope so,” I offer.

He winks. “I know so.”

I watch him walk away, the anxiety coursing through my body having calmed a bit at Ox’s words. But I’m still uneasy.

My phone dings, and I check the screen. It’s Dad, needing my help at the store. I blow out a breath and send him a note that I’ll be there shortly.

I find him where he almost always is: at the front, greeting customers like he’s known them his whole life. Which he has. Dad grew up not far from here, fell in love with his high school sweetheart, and stayed here. When she died, I was a baby. I don’t have any memories of her; just photos of her holding me in her arms with a contented smile.

“Darcy!” He looks up and smiles, his eyes lighting up as he sees me. “Thanks for coming.”

I lean in for a hug. “Of course. What’s going on?”

He hesitates. “I know you said you don’t want to work here full-time,” he begins.

I stiffen. “Dad,” I warn. “You better not be trying to talk me out of this.”

“I’m not, I promise.” He holds his hands up in surrender. “I have a request, though.” A beat. “Two, actually.”

Crossing my arms defensively, I ask, “And they are?”

He grins. “First, I need you to show me how the damn accounting software works.”

“Only if you promise to actually pay attention this time.”

“Pinkie promise.” He holds his out.

Hooking my pinkie to his, I meet his eyes. “That’s serious.”

“I know.”

We tighten the grip, then move our hands up and down in a shake. “Deal. And the second thing?”

“Call JJ and see about putting an ad in the paper.”

“For what?”

He unhooks his pinkie. “You’re fired.”

“What?” I choke out. I didn’t hear him correctly.

His smile is kind. “Sweet girl, I’m pretty sure you won’treallystop working here if I don’t make you. And I’ll keep finding ways to hang onto you. So, this is me trying, the only way I know how.”

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